


Snuffing the Light

by Ryuufubuki



Series: Snuffing the Light [1]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Slade Wilson's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 14:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20761559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuufubuki/pseuds/Ryuufubuki
Summary: When Nightwing confers with a late night visitor, the last thing he expects is to have to lie.





	Snuffing the Light

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Snuffing the Light, since posting this on fanfiction.net I've decided to make this into a set of one shots loosely based around there being a YJ equivalent to Dick Grayson's apprenticeship under Deathstroke from Teen Titans mostly because there's been almost no interaction between the two in the cartoon. So I wanted to emphasize the expectations/respect/whatever Deathstroke has for Nightwing and came up with this. This is also an edited and more refined version of what I posted to ff.net. So I hope you enjoy.

Dick Grayson slid through the window into his apartment, it was 3am and he was exhausted. He hadn’t been planning to stay out this late, or early depending on how you look at it, since he had an early training session with the Outsiders planned. But it seemed the villains in Bludhaven had other plans, they were seemingly intent to cause trouble all night. Split between the team, Batman Incorporated and Bludhaven had begun to wear the hero down. The Bat of Bludhaven wanted nothing more than to collapse in his bed and sleep for years. However, the instant his feet hit the wooden floor of the apartment, he knew something was off.

At least if the dark figure sitting in one of his chairs was any indication. Dick flipped on the light, instantly annoyed by the presence of his uninvited guest. Slade was sipping at a mug of coffee, his helmet off as he focused on the crossword in yesterday’s newspaper.

“Is there a reason you’re doing a crossword in the dark in my apartment? Or did you just decide to make a late-night visit?” Dick snapped, battling the fear rising at the sight of his forced mentor. 

Slade raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing for him to sit in front of the other steaming mug on the coffee table. “And here I thought that you’d already figured it out. I certainly made it obvious enough for you to figure it out. How much have your sense dulled since-“

“I know,” Dick interrupted, his chest seizing at the thought of those long weeks spent with the villain. He took in a deep breath, grounding himself in the moment and easing those memories away. “Tara is working for you. It was too easy to break her and the others out. She’s not exactly the best actor either,” he replied, sitting down. Dick took a sip of the coffee, relieved as the caffeine soaked into his veins and giving him something new to focus his mind on.

“Yet, you haven’t told your ah, friends." It’s a statement, not a question, but Dick knows Slade expects him to explain himself. He considers leaving the question hanging in the air between them, it isn’t as if he has any obligation to answer the mercenary. But he wants Slade to leave so he can sleep and he’s in no mood for a fight what's always a loosing battle.

“She deserves a chance. If she does anything, I’ll handle it,” Dick watched Slade who looked fairly intrigued by the path of the answer. It's mocking, Slade has the talent of knowing him, sometimes even better than he knows himself. He leans forward, placing the half drained cup back on the table, “Besides, I know how you think. The moment you so much as try to hurt my team, I’ll end you.”

The shift takes an instant as Slade’s smirk grows from disappointed to proud, and Dick considered triggering the distress signal in his belt. While Nightwing could barely fight off Deathstroke on a good day, Bruce was nearly unbeatable, and Slade would retreat at the first sign of the Bat. Bruce had every reason to want Slade's imprisonment as much as Dick himself.

“Relax Richard. I have no intention to fight you tonight. I wanted to make you an offer,” Slade continued.

“I’m not interested in being your-“

“Apprentice? No. As my equal, a member of the Light.”

Dick was silent, barely able to comprehend the offer. Slade took the silence as enough encouragement to continue. “You have been a hero longer than most villains have been active. You led your team to defeat the Justice League when you were thirteen, do not deny that it wasn’t your plan, your team would not have been successful without your ability to adapt. You were able to outsmart and defeat me. Creating a plan to work Aqualad into the Light and solidifying it by faking your teammate’s death. You’re a step ahead of the Light and you could snuff it the moment you decided to use your full set of skills. You are the cold, calculating element the Light is missing. Savage doesn’t think you’re a threat, Richard. But I know better. Join us, take your place among those who will help your growth instead of hindering it.”

Dick was silent, a strange numbness washing over him as he set the now empty mug back on the table. He could feel the dull thread of anxiety building up in the back of his mind, and he swallowed, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. He could see his hands shake, a visible quiver. Yet it all felt so distant.

Realization overwhelmed him, accompanied with a wave of fear. He tried to move his hand to push the distress beacon, but it wouldn’t move. He could barely feel his hand anymore, much less the rest of his body.

This was it.

Slade knew he would refuse and had drugged the coffee to drag Dick to the Light by force. He’d be forced to join, blackmailed, forced to attack his family, his friends. Forced to kill. But the rush of adrenaline from his surge of fear was not enough to overcome the drug. He could already feel his consciousness draining away. He already knew the perception of freedom he'd had for so long was a lie. He'd only held it so long as Slade had permitted it, and now the mercenary was taking it away in one fell swoop.

“Take some time to consider my offer Richard. Until then, you should take better are of yourself, you are only human,” Slade’s voice echoed through the sleepy haze that had encompassed Dick’s being. And only moments later he drifted into a deep, drug forced sleep.

* * *

M’gann checked her phone for what felt like the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. Dick had been the one to insist an early morning training for the Outsiders, but he hadn’t responded to any texts or answered his calls. It wasn’t as if this hadn’t ever happened, but it was extremely rare in these days.

This was just worrisome.

She wanted to go check on him, but it was a weekend and all of the Outsiders were here. Connor was at work while Artemis was taking Liam to the doctors for a checkup and Jefferson was following up on a lead.

She knew the teens were old enough to take care of themselves, but she also knew how much trouble teenagers with powers could get into. Even with Doctor Jace here she didn’t think it lessened their ability to find trouble if they were tempted.

She redialed Dick’s number, urging him to answer, her worry growing when it went to voicemail. “Hey, Dick this is Megan again. Please call me back whenever you get the chance. She hung up, turning to the Outsiders and putting on a smile. “Since Dick’s not responding why don’t we skip training and go to the beach,” she suggested.

Tara’s face lit up with joy and M’gann’s heart melted, wishing she could erase the girl’s time in captivity and the pain that came with it if only to see that smile all the time.

“Is Dick Grayson okay?” Forager clicked.

M’gann nodded, “He’s fine, there’s probably something happening in Bludhaven and he didn’t have time to call.” At least she hoped. She still remembered the weeks Dick had been gone before returning as Renegade. And she had yet to forget the haunted boy who'd returned afterwards. She’d have to ask Oracle if she knew anything, or, at the very least, check on the feed from his mask.

* * *

When Dick opened his eyes again it was still dark. He couldn’t have been out for more than a few hours and while his body and mind still felt numb, he wondered why Slade had used such a weak drug. All the same, he didn’t have the time to wait for it to wear off, he needed to get ready to go to Happy Harbor.

It was a stroke of luck that Dick was still in his Nightwing suit. While it felt as if it took all the effort in the world to move his hands to his lap near the distress button at least he had easy access to it. He rested momentarily, trying to gain some more fine motor control before he used the rest of the energy to push it. His hands went limp, his energy spent.

Almost instantly his commlink burst into life.

“Nightwing! What's wrong? What happened?” Tim questioned, his voice coming out in a barely discernible blur of worry and relief.

Dick wanted to respond, to tell his little brother what happened, to seek some sort of comfort from his family. It shook him too much and even if he did, he wasn't sure he could keep his voice from breaking at the rush of fear and dread. It was his lack of energy that saved him from doing so. To respond would mean raising his hand and opening his side of the link and opening his mouth to speak. It all seemed like too much right now.

“Okay, that’s okay. Bruce and I are coming, we're almost there,” Tim reported.

Dick blinked in surprise, it was an hour from Gotham to Bludhaven without speeding. They should have been finished up with their rounds in Gotham hours ago if there wasn’t an Arkham breakout, it'd take them time to get ready until they were ready to go out. They were hardly almost here.

As if sensing his confusion through the silence, Tim went on, “Oracle told us M’gann couldn’t reach you, we tried to tap into your feed, but it was cut right when you were about to go out on patrol last night.” The commlink went silent for a moment, Tim was probably talking to Bruce, but it gave time for Dick to process what he’d heard.

Why would M’gann be trying to call him? Even if he was late it would only be by a few minutes. Did something happen? Was this Slade’s way of getting rid of Dick so Tara could make her move? Was the team okay?

The rush of urgency provided the energy Dick needed to raise his hand up to his ear. “M’ga…nn?” he asked, unnatural pauses filling his voice. He wanted to ask more but he couldn’t get anything else out.

“Dick! Bruce he-whoa!” Dick heard a car drift to a stop outside and Bruce and Tim were coming in through the window in an instant. Batman’s sweeping cape billowing as he entered. He pulled off his cowl, Tim drawing the curtains closed.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, he glanced around the room and to the table where the two coffee cups and finished crossword still sat. “Tim, take a sample from the cup,” he ordered, passing Dick’s cup to Tim.

“S…slade,” Dick got out, frustrated with his lack of ability to talk. He knew what he wanted to say and how to say it but if felt as if he couldn’t get it out.

Bruce grimaced, looking around them, as if Slade was still lingering around. But he put a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath Dick,” he reminded gently.

“Bruce? It’s nothing dangerous, we just have to wait for it to get out of his system, it’ll only be a few more hours, I think,” Tim interjected. He seemed calm all things aside. But Dick wondered if the moment the problem was resolved all of the built up stress would overwhelm his younger brother.

Yet, Dick’s mind was a blur and he realized the gravity of the situation. “Team?” he asked, looking up at Bruce.

“They’re fine, M’gann said they went to the beach when you didn’t show up for training,” Tim informed.

“Day?” Dick asked urgently. No way had he been knocked out for a whole day. There was no way. It wasn’t possible.

“It’s Saturday night,” Bruce supplied, picking up Dick’s mask. “We’re going back to the cave, we’ll be able to run more tests to make sure the drug properly runs out of your system." His gaze hardens as his eyes sweep the apartment again, looking for the signs of Slade. "What did he say?" 

Needless to say, Dick could remember everything. The offer to join the Light. Dick’s consistent effort to put the mission first. Knowing how to defeat the Leaguers. The fact that Slade thought he could defeat the Light. And the reminder that even with his skills, he was only human.

No matter what, he couldn’t tell Bruce about the offer. He’d worry endlessly, Dick’s access to others would be limited, and whoever he would be able to talk to would only be those Bruce would trust with his life.

It would be suffocating.

So instead Dick did the only thing he could do.

He lied.

“He didn’t say anything.”


End file.
